


Vertigo

by fuenciado



Category: Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:44:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuenciado/pseuds/fuenciado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the song Vertigo by Marianas Trench. Kellin Quinn/Vic Fuentes. Not a happy ending, to put it simply.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vertigo

Do you know what it’s like to feel worthless? Unfortunately, a lot of us do, more than we’d expect. But what makes us feel worthless? Is it other people? Ourselves? The media? I don’t know about others, but I know what makes me feel worthless. He does. Yet, I can’t bring myself to leave. No matter how much he hurts me, I just can’t bring myself to leave him. I could never hurt him. It’s gotten to the point that I don’t even care if he hurts me. I deserve it, he always tells me I deserve it, and he’s always right.

“You do know this constitutes as abuse, right?” I hear my closest friend question. I’m not actually paying attention, lost in my own thoughts after spilling a bit of my story to him. He doesn’t even know the half of it, half of the abuse Vic put me through. But, Vic was the most amazing person in the world… and I’d never be able to be with anyone as amazing as him, if even anyone at all.

He isn’t a bad person, honesty, he just… he’s not the same person he was when we got together. I don’t know how or why he changed, but… I love him, so it’s okay. Everyone changes, for better or for worse.

 _Kellin?_  I read, a sigh escaping my lips, tears once again threatening to fall. I dug my nails into my hand, resisting the urge to tap out a reply. Jaime had a frown on his face, watching my pained expression.

“You’re still talking to him, aren’t you?” He asks, attempting to hide the slight bit of anger behind his voice.  I just nodded solemnly. He didn’t understand, he didn’t know I love him. I couldn’t just ignore him. That would end badly. I don’t want to upset him, you never want to upset him. He’s scary when he’s upset.

 _I swear to fucking god Kellin. You’re so stupid. Why am I with you?_  The tears stung at my eyes, a feeling I was used to by now. If it weren’t for Jaime being here, I’d be dragging a blade across my skin by now. I wanted to so badly, I wanted the relief brought from the scarlet liquid trickling down my legs.

 _I don’t know… you’re so amazing and I don’t know why you’re with me honestly, because you’re perfect…_ The thought of Vic leaving brought me more pain, but of course I only ever wanted the best for Vic, for him to be happy, so he could do whatever he wanted.

For him, I always wanted the best. Everything was about him. If it wasn’t, if I so much as spoke of someone else’s or my own interests… well, I had learned better than that. Telling him off one too many times, when I was too upset to think straight, he had broken up with me. I almost ended up killing myself… which was when I realized I couldn’t live my life without him, couldn’t suffer through life without the man who had begun to mean the world to me.

“Kellin?” Jaime whispered, placing his hand on my arm. I cringed away slightly, a bruise still there but covered by my sleeve. I always had bruises and cuts to cover, from Vic mostly, whether caused directly by him or just a result of his words. Jaime didn’t notice, just looked at me expectantly. If anyone noticed my bruises or cuts, I always made excuses. No one questioned it. I told Vic it was alright, told him that it was better he hurt me than hurt himself… because he always came first, and he knew it.

I remember, one day, I accidentally mentioned that I found a celebrity attractive. I didn’t mean to send it to him, he was just texting me at the same time I was having the conversation with someone else, but his response is something I’ll never forget:  _Bitch, you are mine. Only mine. You aren’t allowed to like anyone else, you aren’t allowed to TALK about anyone else. The world revolves around me, and only me._

Had I been anyone else receiving that text message, they probably would have broken up with him right there and then. But not me, hell no not me. He knew how to make my life a living hell, and I’d much rather deal with that than the living hell I knew he’d create. If he didn’t kill me, I’d kill myself.

“I need some time to myself, please?” I pleaded with Jaime, hoping he’d leave so I could get the relief I sought. He nodded with a sigh, knowing there was nothing he could do. Once he was gone, I went straight to my blades, adding another 30ish lines to the collection along my thighs. The feeling brought a smile to my face, the type of sick smile most would be afraid of.

 _I’m sorry… I love you._  There it was, that text message that would always make everything better. No matter how many times he used those words, no matter how many times he spewed that lie, I fell for it every time. It was automatic forgiveness, and he had realized that by now. He could throw as many insults at me as he wished, as many mean words and cruel actions, as long as he threw in an “I love you” every once and awhile. That’s what kept me there.

I couldn’t think back to a time where Vic treated me well, because all the bad moments made the good ones disappear. But, he had a few, more recent moments, now and again, where he’d say something nice, maybe a  _You look good today_ , or an  _I like the way your hair looks today_ , but the few times he said kind words, they’d soon be replaced with mean words, words that would end up engraved in my skin as tears poured down my cheeks.

I absent-mindedly tapped out replies to Vic, through all my tears. It was on my mind, it seemed it was always on my mind. Suicide. But I couldn’t, not when Vic was with me. Not when he was mine. Because he ‘needed’ me, he said. Supposedly. Not that he ever showed it, but anytime I thought about doing something like that, the guilt of leaving Vic filled my mind, and convinced me to wait. Wait until he broke up with me. It was bound to come.

I soon got ready for bed, carefully slipping on a new pair of boxers, my cuts stinging as usual, my face stained with dry tears. I kept asking myself why, why I deserved all this. I knew I did, but I didn’t understand why. I brought my phone with me to bed, plugging it into the charger coming out from under my bed as I did every night. I always had to go to bed later than Vic, it was one of his many unspoken rules. Oh god, he always found a way to make me feel guilty about saying good night before he did, and I didn’t even want to think about the few times I had fallen asleep on him. Eventually he said goodnight, to my relief, because I was worn out beyond belief from the day. Most nights I ended up slipping into sleep immediately after saying goodnight, I was always that tired.

I woke up several times throughout the night, each time checking the clock, usually getting up to get a drink or just stretch. It was a regular routine, I hadn’t been able to sleep for years, that had started even before Vic came along, though thoughts of Vic would now prevent me from falling back asleep more often than not.

Morning came, and despite my body screaming at me not to get up, I did anyways, around 10 am, a new late for me. Oh lord, how I was relieved it was the weekend. I liked school because Vic was decent at school, whether it was because there were people around or just because it was school, and I only had to deal with a few insults here and there during school hours. Though that tended to be when the physical abuse would happen. People would assume it was just ‘boys being boys,’ messing around, if they witnessed it. No one knew we were together, as per Vic’s request, which was more of a demand, which probably helped with the ‘boys being boys’ thing. But, on the weekends, despite the fact Vic was more emotionally abusive, it was a break, to lay down, relax, as much as I could. I checked my phone, prepared to send Vic one of my usual  _Good morning gorgeous :)_  or something like that texts, and saw I already had a text from him.

 _We’re over._  Two words. Two words and I felt my world crumble around me. The ground was ripped right out from under me, my legs giving out and causing me to collapse to the ground, tears immediately stinging at my eyes and pouring down my cheeks. “No, no, no,” I chanted, feeling like I had just had my heart ripped out from my chest. “No no no no no,” my chant dissolved into hopeless sobs, my phone pressed against my chest, my hand turning white it was clutching the device so tightly. I sobbed for about an hour, until my throat was raw and my tears had run dry, my next reaction to force myself to get up and have a go at my blades.

I had discarded my phone some time ago, and finally picked it up again as I forced myself onto my bed, to dig into my bedside table for what had become my personal favourite blade. I dug through before feeling my phone vibrate on my lap, my hands shakily grabbing at it to see what had set it off, yet another text message.  _You’re worthless, you never meant anything to me. I never loved you, all that bullshit I said to you was lies. You should just kill yourself, you worthless cunt._

Oh god, did I ever need my blades more than right now. I dug out one of the X-Acto knife blades I had stolen from my dad’s supply, immediately digging it into the flesh on my thighs, leaving deep trenches along my legs, had to be getting close to 20 when I stopped. I grabbed one of my rags, knowing I’d get in shit if I accidentally got blood on my bed sheets, and spread myself down on the floor, tearing at my skin once again with the blades, this time on my arms. I began to feel weak, and I didn’t fight the feeling, following it because of the numbness it seemed to bring.

I woke up, my dried up blood encrusted on my arms, my head groggy, whether from passing out or other causes I didn’t care to determine. I got up, my body aching, and forced myself over to my en-suite bathroom, washing the blood off my arms, then taking a cloth to my legs, making a pained face as I did both tasks. Once I had bandaged myself up, feeling grateful for having my own bathroom, I forced myself over to my bed, letting myself fall into it and fall into the darkness that was sleep.

My sleep was plagued with unhappiness, nightmares of horrible things happening. Each time I woke up, I could feel tears stinging at my eyes, and my arms and legs ached from the earlier abuse they suffered in my hands. I forced myself to fall back asleep each time, not even bothering with checking the time, or my phone, or solving the problem of my dry mouth with a drink.

I eventually forced myself to get out of bed, Vic’s words repeating in my head, my mind conjuring up his voice to say the words to me, to make it worse. I made the mistake of checking my phone, to see another text from Vic:  _Killed yourself yet, you emo freak?_ I stared at it emotionless, before tossing my phone as hard as I could across the room at my beanbag, though at this point I honestly didn’t care where it went.

Hypocrite. He was a god damn hypocrite. He knew I still struggled with self harm, and he used that against me a lot, but he used to struggle with it too. Until I came along. I had boosted his confidence, to the point where he thought the world of himself. And he sat here, saying hypocritical things to me, encouraging me to kill myself, for fucks sake. I’d never stoop so low. Though I might go so low as to go through with it. Killing myself, that is.

I had managed to make my mind numb, force myself through the week. I’d done no school work, but my teachers were used to that. I hadn’t talked to anyone, at all, besides my parents, who I pretended I was okay around. Jaime had bugged and bothered me and I had managed to not say a word to him, his efforts faltering about half-way through the week. He just assumed it was another one of me and Vic’s fights. Every night, I went home, told my parents I wasn’t hungry, and locked myself in my room. Every night, I dragged my blade across my skin until all I could see was red, and every night I ended passing out from exhaustion, usually on my floor, though once on my bed.

The day had finally come, it was Saturday morning. I said I’d give myself a week, not let Vic have the satisfaction of thinking his words of encouragement are what pushed me over the edge. I cleaned up my room, organized things so my parents would have it easier when I was gone. I pulled out a blank piece of paper, settling myself down at my computer desk and pulling out my favourite pen, a black one which wrote oh-so-smoothly, to write my note with. I felt bad if I left nothing. so I was going to write a short, simple note.

 _I’m sorry I was never good enough. Don’t blame yourselves. - Kellin_ I scrawled out, using my best handwriting, the handwriting that had made my teacher proud. I folded the note carefully, sliding it inside an envelope from the drawer beside me before pressing it closed, not bothering to seal it. I left it on my computer desk, getting up to head downstairs, where I knew my parents wouldn’t be home. I had second thoughts, instead deciding to take the envelope with me, just in case. I wandered downstairs, over into my dad’s office, where I knew he kept his guns. I picked out my favourite gun, a handgun, and carried it back up to my room with me. I held it surely in my hands, no doubts about what I was going to do. I closed the door, careful not to lock it, and positioned my back against the wall, my breathing calm as I placed the letter on my bedside table, which was an arm’s reach away.

I positioned the gun between my eyebrows, feeling the cold metal barrel press against my skin. I took a deep breath then pulled the trigger.

**[Vic]**

I had sunken back into the depression Kellin had pulled me out of, but this time worse. It was all my fault. I was a horrible person, and I couldn’t even do anything about it. I don’t know why, much less how, I treated him so bad, but I regret it. Yet I couldn’t stop it. I just was a horrible person, I had always treated people like shit. I was never able to control it, and it had ended me here. He had killed himself about two months ago, and that was all I could think about now.

My arms were lined with scars, getting deeper, and the newer cuts were the deepest. I had attempted suicide twice since he killed himself. Killed himself because of me. All because of me. I could have stopped him. But I was too horrible. I dug my blade in deeper, deeper than ever before. I didn’t even flinch at the feeling that overtook me, the slightly-dizzying high that came with such a deep cut. Scarlet trickled down my arms, my hands sticky with the liquid, as I traced the blade along my skin delicately, choosing the spot for my next cut carefully. The drugs would be kicking in soon. They had to be. So I had to get these cuts right. I dug the blade in again, my eyes fixated on my parting flesh below the blade. Once I thought I had done a decent job on that wrist, I switched, blood spilling onto my other arm

A couple slashes across that wrist until I felt too weak to do anything more. I just hoped it worked this time. I couldn’t deal with this pain anymore. No one even cared, because everyone knew how horrible I was. Jaime blamed me for Kellin’s suicide, and he was right to do so. I blame myself too. The darkness played at my vision, eventually coming to collect my body with it’s numbness.

I woke up to a bright white light, unwilling to fully open my eyes, feeling like I’d be blinded if I did. I had a piercing headache, and I couldn’t feel my body, it was completely numb. I breathed out a sigh, knowing I had failed yet again. I was just a failure, a horrible failure. As if there wasn’t enough wrong with me, I even failed at killing myself. Yet, I can make someone else kill themselves. Which just helps with the horrible argument.

I finally forced myself to open my eyes, expecting to see either my room or  hospital curtain surrounding me, depending on whether anyone cared enough to come looking for me, but all I saw was white. Bright, clean white. I squinted, trying to see anything but this damned whiteness, but that didn’t help. I closed my eyes, focusing on my numb limbs. I tried to move my fingers, no clue if it was working, before opening my eyes again. I tried to sit up, but felt a dizzy rush, immediately giving up on that thought. But I had realized by now, I was in no hospital, much less any place I knew. It was as though the world was blank.

Had I succeeded, had I killed myself? Is this what death was, an eternal whiteness? What was I expected to do? I guess I shouldn’t have expected much… though I didn’t have any expectations for death, when I think about it. Because of the numbness, I just let myself go, falling asleep, my mind emotionally strained still. I didn’t notice if there was hard ground, or whatever you’d call this white stuff, below me.

I woke up again later, this time able to move and feel my body. I stood up slowly, not wanting to rush myself, a dizzying feeling overcoming me with nothing to grab onto but myself. I forced myself up, and started wandering around, seeing far-off people, silhouettes, not bothering to seek any of them out.

After walking for I-don’t-even-know how long, I decided I’d had enough for one day, if there even were days here. It didn’t seem like there were, the brightness of the place not changing at all as I wandered, my eyes only adjusting to the odd brightness.

I was woken up by several voices, my eyes squinting as I looked over to examine the people. I wondered how they had all gotten here, if everyone went here, or how this place worked. I had so many questions, including whether Kellin was here. I got up, wandering towards the voices, to ask them.

“Hey, uh, can you guys answer some questions for me?” I asked, examining each member of the group’s faces. I don’t know whether it was the light or whether everyone was just like that, but they were extremely pale, yet seemed to be in perfect help. One of them sighed, before giving a concentrated look, me being the only one to question it it seemed.

There was a bright flash of light as the group disappeared in front of me, or maybe I disappeared in front of them. But next thing I knew, I was staring at whiteness again. I heard someone shuffle around behind me, before hearing a rather monotone voice begin to speak.

“I’m Kellin, and I guess I get the pleasure of showing yet another person around,” he said and my heart stopped. It couldn’t be my Kellin, could it? I slowly started to turn around, as he began to spoke again. “Stick the newbies with the worst jobs, why doncha?” He complained as he turned around for himself.

“Oh god, Kellin…” I finished turning around and was unable to believe my eyes, seeing him. I reached out for him, his immediate reaction to step back. “I’m so so sorry…” I apologized, taking a step closer to him. Before he could react, I had pulled him into a hug, his arms going around me stiffly and his hand clapping my back. I repeated apologies into his shirt, hating myself so much in that moment. “Please forgive me? Oh god I regret it all…”

“I forgive you,” Kellin breathed, no hesitation before he answered. I felt a rush of relief at that, before he pulled away. “But I’m done with you now.” He paused for a moment, before continuing,  “I’m happy now. You were horrible to me, and I’m done with you. Forever.”

I looked him over, and discovered he looked absolutely perfect here, wherever we were. No scars, no cuts, just clean, pale flesh, nice, smooth clothing, no sad looks, no bags under his eyes, a gleam in his eyes rather than the usual worn-out look. He looked in perfect health, with the unusually pale skin to match the group I had seen earlier, and I had to wonder whether it was an effect the place had on you.

He turned away from me, taking a few steps before turning around again. “Oh yeah, guess I should tell you…” He said, before deciding better of himself, and pulling out a piece of paper and tossing it at me. “That’s what Tony gave me, he can’t speak and I’m done with you so… have this instead.”

I opened the paper and began reading, what appeared to be an explanation of this place.  _This is a place where souls can wander forever, seek a life freely, after they’ve killed themselves… no time, no…_


End file.
